


Crossroads

by All_The_Monsters



Series: Gleb x Anya One-shots [5]
Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demon Deals, Demon Gleb, Demonic Possession, F/M, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_The_Monsters/pseuds/All_The_Monsters
Summary: A younger and memory-less Anya hears tale of the spirits you can summon at the crossroads with the right offering, and tired and desperate to belong someone Anya makes a deal, but in the end, was it all worth it?





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Anastasia

_1923_

The wind whistled through the branches of the trees as Anya approached the crossroads, clutching the box full of the items she would need. The cat's bone rattled around in old tin matchbox along with the photograph Anya had taken for the purpose of making the deal she planned on making, and a fistful of dirt she'd snatched from a graveyard she'd passed on the way. Sucking in the cold Russian night air, Anya stopped in the dead center of the crossroads and shivered, though not from the chill. Was she really this desperate? Yes, Anya reminded herself why she was there. She  _had_ to know, she just did. There was no question about it, Anya had to know for sure who she was, and how she came to be the nameless nobody she was at the present. Pushing away anymore intrusive thoughts, Anya knelt down and loosened the cold dirt enough to cover the matchbox. The hole was not deep enough to technically call the matchbox "buried", the ground was too frozen for that, but deep enough for there only to exist a small mound of dirt on top. 

Her hear beat thunderously as Anya stood and looked around, chewing at her lip with her teeth. Spinning around Anya felt her stomach drop when she found no one there besides her self. Letting out the breath she seamed to be holding, Anya clutched her arms around herself, cursing herself for getting her hopes up over some silly old superstition. Part of Anya wondered if she'd done the ritual wrong, before she shook her head and reminded herself magic didn't exist, and that this was all some desperate last attempt to  _be_ someone. Defeated, Anya turned to leave when a voice spoke up behind her. 

"Leaving so soon?" Gasping Anya turned of her heel and stared wide-eyed at the speaker. He was tall, at least a head and a half taller than herself, and a lock of his dark hair fell in front of his eyes. 

"You-? Are you-? Who?" Anya stuttered out, stepping back and the man chuckled darkly. 

"Yes." As he spoke the words his already dark eyes turned completely black, and Anya found herself struck his with fear. 

"Anya, Anya, Anya." He tutted, shaking his head all the while smiling after his eyes returned back to normal. 

"How do you know my name?" Anya bravely asked. 

"You summoned me." He pointed out. 

"Fair enough," Anya supposed. "And what do I call you?"

He inclined his head as if thinking about the answer before responding, "I don't think you'd be able to pronounce my name... I suppose you could call me Gleb." 

"Gleb?" Anya repeated. 

"He's a nice enough man." He studied his own hand almost curiously. 

"What do you mean?" Anya asked, almost fretting the answer. 

Looking up the man, Gleb, smiled darkly, "demons can't hold corporeal form, so we must resort to... other methods." 

"Your possessing him." Anya whispered. 

"Yes. Now, down to business." Gleb straightened up. Swallowing, Anya nodded. "What is it you so desperately want that you'd trade your only immortal soul for?" 

"Who am I?" Anya asked. 

"Is that all?" Gleb inclined his head and look at her as if she were some oddity. 

"Yes." Anya nodded and looked down towards her hands as they fiddled with the hem of her thread-bare coat. 

"How is it you don't know who you are?" Gleb stepped closer and Anya jumped back. 

"I don't remember." She spoke quickly. 

"Don't, or can't?" He reached out and traced the line of her jaw with his finger. 

"What does it matter?" Anya whispered, trembling with fear. 

"If that's all, I'm afraid I can't help you." Gleb's hand was suddenly drawn away from her face and he turned to begin walking away. 

"Wait, isn't there anything?" Anya called out after his retreating form. 

Stopping, Gleb turned and looked back at her. "I can't tell you who you are..." Anya sensed the 'but' lingering at the end of his sentence and waited for him to continue, "I can give you one thing." 

"What? Anything." Anya replied desperately. 

"Dreams, dreams of your past, ghosts really, that is all. The rest is up to you to remember." Gleb stood still as Anya carefully approached, considering his words. 

"What's the price." Anya stated firmly despite her fear. 

" _If_ you remember you have ten years, then you're mine." Gleb answered. 

"And if I don't?" Anya asked. 

"Then you're free. Do we have a deal?" Gleb stepped closer now, invading her personal space again and all Anya could do was nod as she looked up at Gleb. 

He reached out to press his hand to her forehead before she stopped him, and he drew back. "Wait, after we're done, you'll let him go, right?" 

"Who?" Gleb asked, tilting his head. 

"Gleb, the man you're possessing." Anya clarified. "And he'll be alright?" 

"Of course." 'Gleb' promised. 

Nodding again Anya told him to continue. In a firm but gently motion Gleb pressed his hand to her temple and caught Anya as she cried out at emotion the, albeit limited, memories brought. As soon as it had started it was over and Gleb stepped away, allowing Anya to fall to the ground, gasping for breath. When she looked up she was alone again on the crossroads. Looking around wildly Anya clambered to her feet, and if it weren't for the pounding headache, she would've thought it all a strange dream. 

_1929_

Anya stared at her reflection in the mirror, fear filling her as she recalled that desperate night in the middle of the woods six years ago. A single tear fell down her cheek. She had remembered, and now- Forcing herself to look away from her face Anya stared down at her gloved hands, her heart beating fast in her chest. Something in her knew, ever since that night when Dmitry had told her of the parade, deep down, that  _he_ would come for her. Gathering her courage Anya stood and turned around before stopping abruptly. 

"Gleb." Anya easily recognized the host of the demon who haunted her every dream and nightmare along with the ghosts he'd brought. 

"Anya." He addressed her. 

"You promised to let him go." Was all Anya could find to say. 

"And I did, for a short time. Besides, I wanted you to recognize me." 

"What do you want?" Anya asked, ignoring his response to her previous question. 

"It's time to finish our deal,  _Anastasia._ " Gleb stepped towards her. 

"I understand." Anya swallowed. 

"What's this? No fight to put it up?" Gleb smiled. 

"What fight could I possibly put up? I've dug my own grave, now I must lie in it." Anya folded her hands, accepting her fate.

"And what a grave you've dug." Gleb tucked a finger under her chin, tilting her head up towards him and Anya's eyes widened slightly at realizing what he was going to do. Before she could do anything his lips had pressed against her own and Anya squeezed her eyes shut. It was a searing kiss, that burned her to her very core. When at last Gleb pulled away he chuckled at her under his breath and when Anya blinked again she was alone once more, the only remainder of what had happened the was the ghost of a breath that remained on her lips from when Gleb had pulled back. 

_1939_

The ticking of the clock on the mantel echoed in Anya's head as she sat on the bed, her hands folded neatly across her lap, glancing every now and then towards the clock. Everything was taken care of, she had made sure of it, there was to be no loose ends. She'd mailed out final letters to Nana, Lily and Vlad, and left one for Dmitry on the dining room table, the last one the only one explaining the truth of it all, and the cause of death he was to announce. There was nothing left to do now, except wait. She'd had breakfast that morning with Dmitry, like every morning before he left for work, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

"You think you're ready?" Anya's chest rose shakily at the familiar voice behind her. "Aren't you a sight?" Anya looked out of the corner of her eyes as he spoke, already knowing what poor soul the demon had chosen to possess without looking as he spoke. It was all Anya could do to nod, closing her eyes tightly and holding back her tears. 

"What's this?" Gleb knelt down in front of her. 

"I don't wan't to die." Anya muttered pitifully. "I never should've made that deal with you sixteen years ago." 

"You might've never know who you were, and then? Could you live with that?" Gleb tenderly brushed away a tear that had slipped out from her closed eyes. 

"I don't care. I was a foolish, desperate child." Anya shook her head and finally let out a choked sob and opened her eyes. "I'm so scared." 

"I know." Anya couldn't tell if the words where meant to be comforting or a simple statement.  

"There's nothing I can do, is there." Anya spoke quietly. 

"A soul for memories," Gleb spoke. 

"What about memories for a soul?" Anya asked suddenly. 

"What do you mean?" Gleb tilted his head. 

"A reverse transaction, think of it as a refund." Anya spoke desperately.

"You'd not only loose your memories of your past, but everything that's happened since you've remembered." Gleb warned. 

"I don't care." Anya looked into his dark eyes. 

"Very well." Gleb stood and towered over her and Anya gazed up at him. 

Without and visible emotion, Gleb reach out and placed his hand on her temple again. Anya cried out at the force of the memories being ripped from her mind and squeezed her eyes shut. When Anya opened them again she looked around, confused at her surroundings, the trees looming around her as she sat on the cold ground in the middle of the woods at a crossroads. Climbing to her feet Anya looked around again, feeling as though she was missing something important. Shrugging it off, Anya looked up at a sign and followed the arrow pointing the way to St. Petersburg, leaving behind an open matchbox and it's smoldering contents. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any questions, comments, concerns, and or interpretive dances in the comment section below.


End file.
